Blackwater morning
by Anassat
Summary: Set after the Battle of Blackwater. Marc Lannister has left Robb Stark's army and has arrived in King's Landing a few nights before the battle.
1. Blackwater morning

Slowly came the dawn after the battle of Blackwater. Bodies laid on the shore, both Stannis's and the Kings, burned, hacked, slashed, impaled with arrows or spears. Marc slowly walked on the bloodied sand. He had been in King's Landing for exactly two days now. Sure, he was a Stark man and had battled on Robb's side, but he also had plans of his own that didn't include fighting for him. He had had enough of the game of thrones a long time ago, probably before it even properly started.

All these men. Young, old, everyone dead. The city's men had been serving Robert Baretheon, now they fought against his brother. Marc stopped to look at one young man laying on the sand. His eyes and mouth open, hands still firmly holding a spear, impaled by a dozen arrows. He didn't seem to be even 25. Marc sighed, kneeled next to the man and closed his eyes.

This was ridiculous. Insane. Thousands of men dying with no hope to gain anything else but wounds, scars and missing limbs from the battle. Just puppets for the leaders and kings. There used to be a time when there was only one king, protector of the realm. Now every single castle had his own king. Marc kicked a shield. Idiotic.

He had, somehow, get himself in contact with even one Lannister. Not Cersei – his beloved little sister might get his head cut off for treason or something as absurd. Not Jaime – Marc chuckled when he remembered his brother's stunned expression when they met the first time. But Tyrion. He might be of help. Marc's helpful spiders all over the town had told him about the battle where Tyrion took place in. In fact, he seemed to be the only Lannister with a true lion's heart.

"Hey!" someone yelled from the Mud Gate. "What are you doing here, peasant?"

"I'm looking for my brother" Marc swiftly lied. "I fear he might have fallen."

"Well?"

Marc shrugged. "I'm sorry, m'lord. It could be anyone of these burned ones, thanks to the Wildfire and flame arrows" he said and pointed at a charred corpse with the King's marks on him.

"Then leave! You don't need to waste your time here. Go, before we make you!" a Kingsguard man yelled and Marc bowed. "As you wish, m'lord" he said and walked away, feeling the guardsmen eyes on his back until he turned from a corner.

One of his faithful spiders, a beggar Jarrod, waited in the brothel the closest to the palace, leading Marc to a safe corner where nobody would hear them over the noise. "What news?" Marc asked and already took a silvery coin from his pocket. "The people start to question the king. All over you hear talk about how he fled the battle and how the halfling had to come and lead the troops back into the battle from the side. And then they, his own men, tried to murder him! If it wasn't for his squire, he would be dead – and even so, he was badly wounded. It was lord Tywin with ser Loras Tyrell who won the battle" the spider said.

"Is Tywin in the city?"

"Indeed he is. He stormed in from the side and caused so much panic that Stannis's troops fled, taking their leader with them. But if they wouldn't have come, this place would be up in flames right now. The rumors about this Lord of the Light and this priestess of some sort Stannis has been involved with, and lord Renly's sudden and unexpected death spark up a lot of talk in the gutters – and even in the palace. A friend told me that they suspect it was either Renly's bodyguard, lady Catelyn Stark or..."

"Lady Catelyn? But why?"

"She was with him when he died. And when the guardsmen came to see, she and that bodyguard were nowhere to be found and three other men lied dead on the floor with lord Renly himself..."

"This can't be true. Lady Catelyn wouldn't hurt Renly. They have known each other since they were children."

"Yes, but lady is a Stark, and Renly was a Baratheon. It's true that Robb is in open battle with..."

"Robb isn't after the crown, Jarrod" Marc said. "Stop now. I have to think." For a while the men sat in silence. "There actually is a third party people suspect to be behind lord Renly's murder" Jarrod then said, immediately attracting Marc's attention. The spider smiled. "I heard from a smuggler that people had seen a shadow, looking like Stannis, just before the death. And the dealing with the priestess and the Lord of the Light..." he said.

"This might just be trash talk. Superstition, stories old women tell to children to keep them away from a pantry or something. Rumors. But to be honest, rumors is all I have right now..." Marc sighed and put the silvery coin he had on the table in front of Jarrod, who already was about to take it. "Wait" Marc said and the young man pulled his arm back, looking at his employer with a confused look. "I can give you this..." Marc took a golden coin from his bag. "...if you tell me how can I get to lord Tyrion's room without being seen."

Jarrod grinned. "Give me a day" he said and left.


	2. A package to deliver

The sun was already going down, painting the palace with the various shades of gold and bronze. It was getting late. Marc crossed his arms and leaned to the wall, waiting. If his plans had failed, if his spider had been caught, tomorrow this same time he would be without his head. Growing anxious he quietly started humming, patting his arms with his fingers to the beat.

"Master?" he heard a small voice say from the shadows.

"Who's there?" he asked and uncrossed his arms. A young man walked towards him with a package in his hands. "Here it is. I am sorry I am late, master. But the roads were full of obstacles" he said. Marc took the package and opened it a bit to see it was what he had been seeking. Satisfied, he smiled. "Thank you, Jesper. Here" he said and took two golden coins from his bag. "Take the other one to maester Basil. And don't try anything – I will know if he will have it or not. Ye did a good work, don't fail my trust now."

A broad smile spread on the young man's face, and he took the coins. "I won't fail you, master! You have paid enough for me and my mother to eat tonight and tomorrow!" he said and bowed deep.

"Now go. Tell yer mother I will pray for both of ye tonight, for ye have done me good. And take the coin to maester. He has also proved himself worthy of trust" Marc said and Jesper nodded, turning around and vanishing into the shadows again.

Marc smiled. It was so easy to make these people do what he wished. And the fact that he was really helping some of them made him even happier. Though it wasn't free, not at all – mostly he paid with silver, but these informations and tasks he had given to his men had been tricky and dangerous, so silver wasn't enough to pay for their troubles.

Now he had the package, so that part was done. Now it was up to Jarrod, the beggar boy who had been Marc's most reliable spider who always knew something about anything.

He had not seen the man for a full day for he was doing his risky part of Marc's plan, trying to find a way to lord Tyrion's room without being seen by the guards which, to be honest, wasn't even near an easy task. But if all went well, Jarrod was now waiting in a secluded spot near the palace.

If not... well, Jarrod could be lying in a cart full of bodies. But there was no time to waste thinking about what could go wrong – though, when things go wrong, you always wish you would have spent more time thinking about that possibility.

Marc hid the package inside his casual worker robes, pulled the hood over his head and, without a sound, left.

It was quiet. A lonely mockingbird sang its melody before flying away from a bush when hearing a sound. "Here, master" Jarrod whispered from the shades and waved his hand. Marc nodded as a sign of acknowledgment and soon was in the same shade, waiting for information.

"Well, it wasn't easy" Jarrod huffed. "But I managed to find a way. Are you good at scaling walls, master?"

"I did scale a wall or two as a child at Dreadfort, and my fingers do give me a firmer grip than to many others. Why do ye ask?" Marc shrugged and Jarrod lead him from the bush near the palace wall, pointing then at one of the windows on top of a tower. "There" he said. "It's the only way to get in unnoticed. It's a pure stroke of luck lord Tyrion's chambers are in the older part of the palace – the walls are much better to climb and there's a direct entrance from the window if it's open."

"And what if it's not?"

"Then, well... another stroke of luck, master. Older part, older windows – and older windows are always easier to open from the outside. And I doubt they will suspect a breach from there, a window up high."

"True. What about guards? If they see me, they _will_ shoot and I _will_ die because I _will_ drop. On the wall I'm unshielded from anything. Hell, even a strong wind can cause me to fall to my doom" Marc said a bit disappointed, but Jarrod smiled and raised his finger as a sign to be quiet.

"You did say you trusted me, and you promised a golden coin. For that amount I _will_ find a way for you not to get hurt" he said, imitating Marc's tone. The blonde crossed his arms and looked at him, expecting an explanation.

"Because it's a rather secluded tower and on the corner of the palace, there isn't many guards and none of them will come near. They all circle on the wall, but you can pass them unnoticed if you are quick and quiet from your feet and time it right. I will cause some racket to draw their attention, but only for a second. There's lots of ivy growing on the tower, and it will provide you with some cover. Now, the tower itself is very easy to climb and if you truly are a good climber, you can get to the window in no time. And from there on, the key is to be as quiet as you can as long as you have to. But then... if anything goes wrong, not even the Seven can help you" Jarrod said with a rather sad tone in his voice.

"Ye sound like ye believe lord Tyrion will kill me" Marc chuckled.

"If you do break into his chambers..." Jarrod shrugged, smiling. Marc put his hand on his shoulder and with the other one patted his chest where the package was under his robes.

"I have something that he will have to look at. And if he has any sense in his head – as I do believe he has – he will listen to me. Do not worry, Jarrod" he said and Jarrod's smile got wider.

"Besides, I pray for the Old Gods" Marc then laughed, and for a while the two men just stood there laughing until Jarrod patted his heart. "My prayers go for you, master. You have been good to me" he said.

"Thank you. I will remember ye for the rest of my life – which hopefully lasts longer than this night" Marc smiled. "I hope so too" his young friend said, and embraced him before putting on his hood.

"Time for you to go to the lion's den, master. I hope we meet again" he said and swiftly left. For a while Marc looked where he had disappeared before leaving their meeting place. As the bush got quiet again, the mockingbird came back and started its cheery melody again.

Just as promised, just when the last beams of sunlight had disappeared from the horizon, a terrible racket started near the wall. The guards on the wall ran to see, and as they were distracted elsewhere, Marc climbed on the wall and down, hiding in the bushes until everything was clear.

From there on, it really wasn't nothing. The tower wall reminded him of Dreadfort, and he could have sworn it really was Northern stone he was clinging to. It added the feeling of home and wiped away even the slightest fear he had of falling.

The window was slightly ajar and easily the size he could climb in. It didn't creak one bit as he opened it and stepped on the wooden floor, silently pressing the window shut.

Lord Tyrion himself. And a woman. Marc had heard of the younger Lannister's taste for ladies and, more frequently, wenches and felt slightly uncomfortable as he sneaked to the door. A few seconds of listening told me that there was a guard on the other side.

Nearly holding his breath Marc took the package he had inside his robes and left it on the table, quietly sneaking to the bed. For a while he hesitated, until he put his hand on lord Tyrion's shoulder. "Wake up" he whispered, heart pounding.

After a few more shakes the Lannister opened his eyes.

"Jaime?" he mumbled, half-asleep.

"No. I have a package for you to deliver" Marc explained.


	3. Messing with the lions

As Tyrion stood up on his bed, Marc turned away and walked next to the table he had put his package on. The lion's lady friend put a wild strand of hair behind her ear and looked at the visitor with a frown, wrapping her nearly nude body in a blanket. "My apologies, m'lady. I was not informed there would be anyone" Marc said.  
"And wasn't supposed to" said Tyrion and stepped on the floor, looking at Marc standing in front of him. "And who are you, exactly?" he then asked, with a rather curious but still confused look on his face.

"Marc Stormbay at yer service, m'lord" Marc said and bowed. A sharp knock from the door startled them. "Is everything alright?" they heard Bronn ask.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" Tyrion asked while picking and putting on his clothes from the floor. Marc leaned to the table and crossed his arms, looking at the door, slightly concerned.

"I... just thought there was somebody else with you there" Bronn said through the door and Tyrion froze to where he was, turning his gaze to Marc. "Come in" he then said. Marc uncrossed his arms and lifted them for him to see, ensuring that he wasn't holding a weapon. The door opened and Bronn walked in, immediately unsheathing his dagger when seeing the visitor. "Where did you come from?" he asked, walked towards and, keeping the dagger on his throat, quickly searched him for anything hidden. However, even when he didn't find any weapons, he kept the dagger still and Marc frozen.

"Let me repeat that question, Marc" Tyrion said.

Marc smiled rather nervously. "From the window, m'lord" he answered, dagger tickling his throat. "Or, really I come from the North, but to be more precise."

Bronn lifted his brow and examined Marc's face. "With that mane you don't look like a Northern, but you look like your face has been washed with seawater quite often. Where, exactly? From the coast? Past or before Winterfell? What town?" he interrogated.

"Dreadfort, along Weeping Water. My name's Marc, if yer interested. Of house Stormbay. Would ye now be kind and put that dagger down?" Marc said and nearly turned his eyes upside down trying to look at Bronn without turning his head.

"Let him" Tyrion commanded and Bronn put the dagger down. "He could have killed me already if he would have wanted. Do you know anyone from Dreadfort, Bronn?"

Bronn shook his head. "I don't. It's a town among others, and besides the fort itself, rather puny and bland like it's people. But that hair..." he said and leaned a bit forward to take a closer look at Marc.

"You can go, Bronn. We have matters to discuss with Marc. And after he's done, would you escort him outside?" Tyrion said and Bronn nodded, backing away from the room. Marc looked after him and then turned his gaze away as the door closed. "Now, tell me" the lion then said and Marc looked at him. "You said you had something to give to me?"

Marc nodded and tapped the package he had on the table. "There was a time when I believed I would never have to use this card up in my sleeve, but as the game begun, it seemed that there was no way to avoid it" he sighed. "But well, I like a bit of action in my life – this is going to be so fun, messing around with the lions like this."

Curious, Tyrion opened the package. "A book?" he said. "That book and the papers inside it has cost me a lot to get my hands on, and if a word goes out that it's missing, my spider will lose his head. So I hope I'm not wasting my time here... and besides, ye could get _my_ head cut too" Marc said. Tyrion opened the book and took the loose papers from inside it, reading them carefully.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Just proof. Proof that Cersei isn't the oldest child and Jaime the first-born son of Tywin and Joanna" Marc said, drumming the table with his fingers. Tyrion looked at him confused, but from a slight gesture continued reading. "A son, healthy, but..." he mumbled and then looked at Marc again. "You mean father had a son before my brother and sister?" he asked. Marc nodded.

Tyrion continued reading and soon put the papers down and moving on to the book. After reading everything there was useful, he put the papers back and closed the book. "You mean that I had an older brother Harry who had four fingers too much and... died?" Tyrion asked. "Sorry for blasting it to ye in such fashion. I couldn't have known if Tywin had told ye about him or not" Marc shrugged. "I have spiders all over King's Landing, but there are places I still can't go."

"He had not told us, indeed. This is... well, obviously this is a complete surprise, but I fail to see how this benefits us. A baby dead years before I was even a thought in my mother's head ain't going to help us one bit" Tyrion said and poured wine in his glass. "Well, that's where I come in" Marc grinned knowingly.

Tyrion lifted his brow, as in expecting an explanation.

"Ye see, little Harry really didn't die. I don't know if Tywin ordered him dead or not, but however, his men took him to the North and gave him to a woman not capable of bearing her own children" Marc explained. "Her name was Viola, originally of house Bastion, now Stormbay. And they named their child Marc."

Standing frozen, Tyrion looked as Marc lifted his hands for him to see. And in Marc's face, his blonde hair and blue eyes he saw Jaime, he saw Tywin, he saw the Lannisters.


End file.
